The Fox and the Crow
by angeleyes4191
Summary: After the Darach incident, Stiles Stilinski finds himself turning to Dr. Deaton for help. Delving head first into myth and magic, Stiles searches for a way to not only become more useful, but to help control the nightmares that are already threatening to undo him. With hidden enemies and past ties, not to mention Lydia Martin, Stiles Stilinski can only hope to survive junior year.
1. Chapter 1

**Ok, so I've started a thing (yes the summary is horrible and doesn't nearly scratch the surface). This will be heavy on the Stydia, but I have to build the plot a bit first. You won't see any real interaction between the two until chapter 5. I'm not usually one for writing multi-chapter fluff lol. I'm a plot girl. Most chapters, every one I've written so far, will be from either Stiles or Lydia's POV, but given that this is sort my idea for 3b I'll probably add some POV chapters for the other characters simply to make the plot make sense lol.**

**I'm doing a ton of research, but a lot of things will be tweaked because I'm not exactly a Celtic Mythology Professor ok? Most things will be based in myth though, of that you can be sure. **

**Bonus: The Fox and the Crow is actually one of Aesop's Fables and it inspired me to start this. It'll make perfect sense eventually. **

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It was 6am on a Saturday, two days after the Darach incident, and Stiles was sitting on a patch of sidewalk outside of Deaton's office. Leaning his head back against the brick wall he shut his eyes tight, trying to rid himself of the nasty headache that he'd had since crashing his Jeep into a tree. His concussion had been mild and no one forced hospital time on him, which was always a bonus. Despite how much time he'd been spending there lately, Stiles hated hospitals.

His dad on the other hand was forced to spend the night, along with Ms. McCall and Mr. Argent. All three were home now and healthy, which he was more than thankful for.

"Mr. Stilinski," a familiar voice called as a shadow blocked out the sun from above, "I didn't realize that I would have the pleasure." Deaton's face was kind as he offered a hand up to the teenager.

"Yeah, well I didn't realize I was even coming here until I was here so…" Stiles replied as he brushed off the back of his pants.

"If you don't mind, I'm going to need to walk and talk. I have to get a few of the animals ready for an early pick up."

"No problem." His voice was slightly mumbled as he followed the older man into the office, but he didn't say much more. The reason his mind had brought him there wasn't lost on Stiles, he just didn't know how to bring it up.

Stiles Stilinski at a loss for words, it had to happen someday.

The minutes past and, instead of following when Deaton disappeared into the back, Stiles was passing the time in the waiting room. The room was quiet except for the soft tap of his sneakers on the floor.

"Stiles," Deaton started as he walked back into the room. While Stiles waited, the vet had exchanged his street coat for a white lab one. "If you're looking to have a conversation with me concerning recent events, I'd prefer it if you came into the back. Wouldn't want anyone overhearing."

"Oh, yeah sure." A moment later Stiles was leaning over a steel table with his head in his hands trying to put his thoughts into words.

"No need to be hesitant, I'm not surprised that you're here. I honestly expected you to come sooner-"

"Are you human?" the question slipped out before Stiles could stop himself, he needed the answer before he decided…

Deaton wasn't shocked or angry; the vet smiled in return, "I am."

"So, being a Druid that's not like...like whatever it was that happened to Scott or any of the other werewolves for that matter."

"No, no it isn't. I'm a Druid because of my ideals and beliefs. Last time I checked, I was still most definitely human."

"What about that spark crap that you told me when I had to use the mountain ash?" his words came out harsher than he meant them to. Stiles's nerves were shot and he was sick of putting up a front. "I mean, ideals and beliefs, that can't be all there is."

Deaton cleared his throat and leaned forward on the table across from the younger man, "For most that is all there is. It is a religion after all." For a moment, the vet seemed to think over his next words and leveled his gaze, "But for a few, there's a bit more to it."

Stiles sighed, straightened and took a slight detour on the subject matter, "You said what we did, it would draw things here. That it would darken our hearts…."

"I meant it. A ritual like that cannot be done without a cost."

"Will whatever's coming be drawn just to the town or…to us; me, Scott and Allison? I didn't exactly have a chance to read the fine print."

"I won't know for sure until it starts." Deaton replied as he took a step back and began to pace like a professor, "It could be that the energy created by the currents will conceal the darkness inside the three of you enough that you can get by unnoticed."

"I feel like a but should be in there somewhere." Stiles's humor fell flat as his heart raced.

The vet's eyes fell to the floor and the tone of his voice turned grave, "But, if that isn't the case, the three of you have turned yourselves into glorified monster magnets."

"That's…that's just wonderful."

"Desperate times…"

Stiles shook his head, "Ok, back to the Druid thing. How'd you know I could use the ashes? It's not like I've been walking around with a Druid bible or anything."

"Because I just knew. Of course there were signs, but this isn't an exact science. I will say that there are very few people who possess the strength of will and level of conviction that you have. I've watched you grow Stiles, I've seen you accomplish great things against fantastic odds. The only other person I've met like you is Scott and we both know how that's turned out."

A lump had formed in Stiles's throat and he fought to remove it before he next spoke, "Can you…can you teach me?"

For some reason, Deaton smiled and Stiles's kind of wanted to punch him. He finally understood how annoyed Luke must've been with Obi Wan or Yoda for that matter, "If you'd like, I don't see why not. Though, you should know that it won't be easy on you."

"Yeah well…desperate times. I mean, it's not exactly like I can rely on sarcasm forever."

"You've excelled at it so far." Deaton replied using equal amounts of sarcasm. "Now, while I promise that we can begin your lessons as soon as possible and I do understand that you would like a means to protect yourself, first you must realize that this won't be like the power Ms. Blake had been able to harness."

"Figures, the darkside usually has things a lot easier."

"Also, I can't teach you the magic without the religion. I'm sorry, but it's a pretty packaged deal. Though, I do believe I have something that might help you through it." Deaton left the room, not sure as to whether or not his should follow, Stiles put his hands in his pockets and stayed exactly where he was.

The teenager was just about to look for him when Deaton returned with what looked like an old set of journals, "These belonged to an old friend and I think they might assist in your studies."

Not bothering to hide his confusion, Stiles accepted the books the moment they were offered. The cover of the top book flipped open on its own and the name written neatly on the front page almost caused him to drop the stack in his hands.

_Claudia Novak. _

"I was asked to keep these incase a moment like this should present itself."

"You knew my mother?" Stiles asked with a thin voice and wide eyes.

"Claudia was my best friend and the most powerful priestess I'd ever known."

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**Reviews are like little butterflies that float around and tell me to keep working lol**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hello again. I'm thinking this'll be updated on Wednesdays and Saturdays, how does that sound?**

**I really like this chapter.**

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_Chop, chop, chop._

The blade of his knife hit the cutting board as each new slice of onion joined the growing stack.

"You're good at that," her voice was just as it should be, years of watching her in old home videos and he'd memorized the sound, "Better than your father ever was." Stiles turned his head to see his mother smiling at him. "He used to hand me those in gigantic chunks with eyes redder than a tomato."

He was wholly her son when it came to appearance. Claudia had dazzling brown eyes and hair the same exact shade as his. She smiled a lopsided grin as she rinse a colander full of vegetables and Stiles was star struck.

For once he really understood why his father had such a hard time looking at him after….

"I'm dreaming." He whispered as he wiped a tear from his eyes that hadn't been caused by the onions.

"Or hallucinating, which is highly possible considering what you've been through."

"How did you-"

"Oh sweetie," the look she gave him was one of motherly concern, "I'm not real, remember? I know whatever you do." She walked over to him then and placed a reassuring hand on his cheek. He leaned into the touch despite the cool feel of it. "My hands used to be warm once…"

Without any warning, his mother took the knife from his hands and plunged it into his stomach to the hilt.

A scream tore from his throat as Stiles bolted forward and out of his dream, his nightmare. Immediately, his hands searched for a wound that shouldn't even be there, but still ached. Sweat covered his body and he shivered as the tips of his fingers ghosted over the spot where he felt the knife enter his skin. The spot stung, though it obviously wasn't life threatening, and when they came up his fingers were tipped with blood.

In a slight panic, Stiles got to his feet and rushed to the bathroom. The light was blinding for a moment, but he was soon in front of the mirror, his t-shirt discarded on the floor. There was a cut just above his belly button that hadn't been there when he had fallen asleep. With shaking hands, Stiles opened the medicine cabinet and began to patch himself up with his now overabundant supply of bandages. Placing his hands on the sink when he finished, Stiles tried to calm down.

Nightmares he was used to, dealing creatures of the night and life threatening situations on a nightly basis had the not unheard of side effect of causing bad dreams, but he wasn't used to nightmares like this. Since their sacrifices he'd been having them, but this was the worst by far and he wasn't entirely sure how much more he could take. Having pulled himself back together he reached up with steady hands and shut the mirrored door.

There, over his shoulder, his mother stood smiling sweetly at him. Turning to look behind him, he saw nothing, but her reflection was still there. Clearing his throat, Stiles locked eyes with the apparition, "You're not real." He said, voice raw from screaming.

Suddenly her skin became sunken and all color was drained from it almost as if she was decaying before him. Bone began to show as the flesh that covered it turned to dust. Stiles could only watch in horror as Claudia's corpse began to speak once more.

"_She is coming_." The words were striking and loud. They reverberated around the room and Stiles had to block he eyes as the mirror in front of him shattered.

A moment later Stiles woke up for the second time that night (Or was it the first? He wasn't entirely sure,) to the sound of a knock at his door.

"Stiles, you ok in there?" his father asked as he slowly pushed open his son's door. Throwing off his covers, the younger Stilinski rushed forward and poked his head into the open space.

"Yeah, yeah I'm fine. Why?"

"I thought I heard….Ya know what? Nevermind, just get back to sleep, you've got school in the morning."

"No problamo," Stiles's replied with the goofiest grin he could muster in his current state.

"Ooook, yeah, goodnight." And with that the Sheriff was off down the hallway toward his own bedroom. Before he was blocked from view, Stiles could see that his father was still in his uniform despite the late hour.

Shutting his door with a sigh, Stiles slid down the cool wood to the floor. He felt feverish and if the stinging pain near his stomach was any indication, he had in fact been wounded in his nightmares.

"Wonderful, just wonderful." he whispered, his voice unusually loud amid the silence of his bedroom. At this point, Deaton teaching him was the only thing Stiles could hope for. Maybe he'd be given a way to protect himself from his dreams.

Shaken, Stiles got to his feet and was just about to head to the bathroom when a buzzing sound made him jump about fifty feet in the air, by his estimation anyway. Once he realized that it was his phone, Stiles let out a relieved laugh and after a quick search under several t-shirts and various pages of research, he finally found his Nokia.

The screen lit up and it showed that Lydia Martin, of all people, sent him a text at 3am.

"_Are you ok? I had this weird feeling_…"

Stiles had no time to reply before his phone started vibrating in his hands.

"_I swear to God if you're dead I'm going to kill you._"

And then,

"_I refuse to be the one that finds your body_. _Your dad is the Sheriff, he can handle it._"

Even after everything that had just happened, Stiles found himself smiling at his phone. They hadn't talked about his panic attack, but he didn't need them too. Lydia Martin was starting to give a shit about him and that was way more than he expected at this point.

"_I'm fine just sleeping_. _What kind of weird feeling?_"

Lying via text was the easiest thing in the world. And make no mistake, Stiles was lying, but she didn't need to know that. No one did, at least not until he figured out how to handle this on his own. The pack didn't need his problems on top of everything else.

"_Fine_ _and it was just weird_."

"_Banshee weird?"_

"_I don't think so. It was just a bad feeling_."

"_Alright, thanks for checking on me_."

"Thanks for checking up on me? Seriously dude?" Stiles said to himself. Several minutes past and Lydia didn't reply. So Stiles, in a slightly better mood, went and patched himself up (in the bathroom where the mirror was completely intact). When he came back, the screen of his phone was bright with just one final message.

"_You're welcome. Goodnight, Stilinski_."

For the second time that night, Stiles's mood brightened, but that didn't mean he was willing to try sleeping again. Instead, he grabbed one of his mother's old journals and spent the rest of his night reading.

* * *

**Claudia- age 10- 1985**

_Dear Diary,_

_It's my birthday! Mommy gave you to me as a present. She told me that you were a jurnell and you don't have a key and you aren't pink, but I still want you to be a diary. The other girls in my grade have diarys, but mommy said that I'm not like them._

_She is going to start teaching me magic stuff and soon I will get my own grimwaarrre, but until then I'm only allowed to write down all the things she teaches me inside you diary! _

_We will be spending lots of time together! I promise to take you everywhere!_

_Love,_

_Claudia_


	3. Chapter 3

**Ok, this is the chapter I'm most nervous about. I notice that my Lydia isn't necessarily like everyone else's Lydia. Um...yeah. Also, start yelling at me to go write because I'm almost done with chapter 6, I have no clue why it's taking me so long. **

* * *

"Hypothetically speaking," Lydia started what she was thinking would be quite a monologue. It was 3pm on the Monday afternoon and she was over Allison's 'studying'. "Say person A has always had a thing for person B and person B never looked at person A twice…until recently, but just in a friend way. Person B is dating person C, who they really can't find themselves thinking about outside of when they're together, but person C is safe, person B knows perfectly well what to expect from someone like person C. Unfortunately, person B might've done something that they really shouldn't have with person A and now they can't stop thinking about it-"

Allison had clearly been following Lydia's speech and she obviously knew who each person was, "Lydia, what did you do?" she interrupted as she closed her text book, sat up from her position on her bed and looked at her best friend.

Lydia cringed and put her head in her hands, "I kissed Stiles," she groaned and Allison's eyes grew twice their size that day.

"What?! When?!"

"A few days ago before the whole sacrifice thing…"

"How?! Where?!"

The red head lifted her head and tried her damnedest to keep her eyes from rolling, "Well, it's good that the 'who' is self-explanatory."

"Sorry, I just…Stiles? Wow. You've got to elaborate. I need details."

A sigh escaped Lydia before she decided just to grin and bear it, this was Allison after all, how bad could it be? "He started having a panic attack when he found out your dad had been taken. It was really horrible and I-I freaked out! I read somewhere that holding your breath can stop a panic attack and I just did the first thing I could think of…."

Pursing her lips, Allison opened and closed her mouth a few times. She had no idea what to think.

"Please say something," Lydia pleaded as she got to her feet, needing to release some of her nervous energy. Although, for the life of her, Lydia couldn't imagine why she was nervous; the entire thing was so utterly ridiculous, not to mention completely meaningless to her. She had a boyfriend and Stiles was barely anything. Stiles meant nothing….

But if that was the case, why did her heart race whenever she recalled the feeling of his lips on hers?

"How was it?" Allison asked with a smile...until Lydia's death glare washed over her, "Nevermind then...You do know that kissing someone during a panic attack is probably one of the last things you should do right?"

"Are you serious? I panicked Allison!"

"I know you did," Allison replied calmly as she watched her pacing friend, "But I'm not sure that's the only reason you did it."

"What are you saying?" Lydia snapped as she stopped pacing and ran her fingers through her hair. She was utterly disheveled and it was completely out of character for her. Her shirt was slightly wrinkled and she wore sneakers today for Christ's sake.

"Why don't you tell me?"

"Don't start psychoanalyzing me Allison!"

"Ok ok ok, I just think that maybe you should consider-"

"Consider what? That it's possible that I might have_ feelings_ for Stiles? No, I won't because it's not possible. Besides I'm with Aiden."

"Why is that exactly?" Allison questioned. The hunter wasn't sure at this point if she was either trying her hardest not to imitate Ms. Morrell or if she was trying to do exactly that.

"I don't know. The sex is fun and, I guess he's safe."

Just when Allison thought her eyes couldn't get any wider. The first thought to enter her mind was thank God her knives weren't around. Since the dreams started she'd taken to locking them up along with any other weapon she could find, at least while she was sleeping. Though she was still having a hard time explaining how they always ended up back in her bed…. "Aiden safe? Psycho-murdering Voltron Alpha werewolf Aiden? Aiden, who helped kill Boyd and Erica and how many others exactly?!"

"For me, Allison! He's the safer choice for me! The worst thing he could possibly do is kill me."

"As opposed to?"

"Heartbreak, depression, years alone in a mental hospital which will turn into years alone feeding pigeons in the park only to come home to an empty house to feed my sixty cats. My countless awards the only things keeping me company…." Lydia eyes had glossed over slightly as she sat back down next to Allison. "I could become the frigid old cat lady."

"Lydia, you're seventeen!"

"How many times must I explain slippery slopes to you?"

"Ten seconds ago you said that you didn't have any feelings for Stiles and now you're making it sound like a relationship with him will result in an ending worse than Jackson."

Allison was right, that was what she was doing. It was easier to predict the worst possible outcome of any type of relationship that could even remotely mean something to her than it was to actually acknowledge her potential feelings. "He loves me Allison," she whispered, "Like, he really loves _me_. I was never even me when I was with Jackson. I hid myself because what guy wants to be with someone who is smarter than they are."

Her friend's face softened as Allison wrapped an arm around her shoulders, "Any guy that wouldn't want to be with you is an idiot on more than one level. But seriously, Stiles doesn't know you that well, it's a crush not love."

"I thought that, but I don't know. It feels like maybe he knows me better than a lot of people. And he really listens to me when I talk, I don't have to simplify anything. He's the only person I've met who actively tries to keep up with me…no offense or anything."

"None taken," Allison replied as she smiled. Part of her was in awe of the fact that she was hearing these words come out of Lydia, of all people. It was kind of like watching the start of something, but she wasn't quite sure where it was going.

"But you know, with Jackson we had this whole saving each other's lives thing…which I guess is something I share with Stiles and Aiden too, actually there's a lot of life saving going around lately, but-"

"Wait, when did that happen? I mean, I know that you saved him, but when did Jackson save you exactly?"

"Prom, ya know from the 'animal attack,'" Lydia's voice went dark when she reminded herself of all the things she needed to do to hurt Peter. She was a genius after all. She had a list and Lydia Martin was determined that not only would she complete every painful task on said list, she would make sure Peter lasted until the very end.

Allison couldn't help the sardonic laughter that escaped her as she let go of Lydia, "He never told you, what a prick…"

"Who never told me what?"

"Jackson never told you what really happened. Lydia, he didn't save your life on Prom night, Stiles did. He traded himself to Peter to save you."


End file.
